Lead the Way
by weazleyqueen
Summary: This is a Harry/Hermione fic that I started I while ago, thought I'd post it. Though, it wont be updated. Unless by some miracle I start writing HP fanfiction again.


Something Special

iA tall figure arose from the depths of the shadows. Another figure, slightly smaller, lay panting on the ground, with cold hard metal chains snaking around his wrists and torso, binding him. As the tall figure advanced, he brought about an air of cold, darkness and emptiness. The Dark Lord's servant followed behind him with his wand raised. Two figures, a boy and a girl, floated beside him. The boy that lay upon the ground suddenly sat upright, a stunned expression on his face. Then it turned into a look of dread.

"No!

Don't kill them, please!

Take me instead!" /i

Harry heard his own voice resound within the dark corners of his mind, and then the shrieking came; it always did, always in its place, every time…

Then there was silence.

Harry awoke with a start, wiping sweat from his forehead. His eyes swept the walls of the once cheerful room, where he had spent many happy summers. He was reminded of the many late nights and games of chess played in this very room, the numerous Quidditch matches that they had once played outside, the gales of raucous laughter. It all seemed so far away now.

It had been two weeks since the demise of Voldemort; two weeks since the death of Harry's best friend and the girl he loved more than he thought possible. Since that day, Harry and Hermione had been living at the Burrow, grieving along with the rest of the family. His life had become a constant battle within the boundaries of his mind; sadness overtook all aspects of his life. Every day was a struggle; waking up each morning was becoming harder and harder. There seemed to be no point to life; almost everything he ever cared about was gone. In a single flash of piercing green light, two bodies lay motionless.

iNo/i, he could not surrender to this depression, this never-ending pit of darkness. Ron and Ginny would have hated it. What about Hermione? She hardly ever spoke more than a few words; she was always locked away in her room, grieving. Ron's death had affected her to a greater extent than anyone else. She seemed to be removed from everyone. Ron had meant so much to her; they were so happy together. To see him killed before her very eyes was terrible. Harry could not bear to see her suffering any longer; they needed to get out of this house.

Mrs. Weasley had been nice enough to offer them a place to stay. Harry had no place to go since the Dursleys had kicked him out last summer when he had come of age. Hermione refused to live with her parents and be removed from wizards, so they had both accepted her invitation, but Harry knew their departure was long overdue.

The Burrow held too many memories, memories of lazily lying on the soft grass, of playing Quidditch with the Weasley's. It hurt to think about a time when Ron and Ginny were alive and ignorant to the horrible fate that lay ahead of them. Staying in this grieving house any longer would just cause them more pain and suffering. They would sink deeper into this pit of darkness. They needed to get out, and get out now.

Harry leapt out of bed and slowly made his way over to Hermione's room, careful not to wake anyone. As he pushed the door open, a despondent Hermione stood reaching for the doorknob. They looked at each other, the same thought going through their heads, iwe have to get out of here…/i

They nodded to each other in comprehension and silently began to pack up their respective things. Harry finished quickly and proceeded into Hermione's room. She was gathering the last of her belongings and packing them into a neat pile in her trunk. Harry helped her close the trunk and they stealthily maneuvered through the house, silently praying that their footsteps would not be overheard. Once they reached the landing of the ground floor, Hermione unfolded a piece of parchment from her pocket and set it on the kitchen table.

"It's a note telling them we're leaving. We can't just leave without telling them isomething/i," Hermione said.

Harry nodded in agreement and quickly scanned over the note.

"We'll take the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron and stay there a few days, and then we'll buy a flat, okay?"

"Harry, are you sure you're okay with this? I mean, it's only for a little while until I get back on my feet, and then I'll find a place to live."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like, Hermione; you know that."

Hermione smiled up at Harry, a genuine smile. He hadn't seen one of those for quite a while. It was refreshing.

They headed outside and stuck out their wand hands; almost instantaneously a large, purple double-decker bus appeared out of thin air.

Stan Shunpike stepped out of the Knight Bus and said, "Well look who it is, Ern! It's the Longbottom boy!"

"Er… yeah, eleven Sickles to the Leaky Cauldron, right?" Harry said, avoiding the questioning stare that Hermione shot him.

"Yes, but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get a 'ot bottle of water and a toofbrush in whatever color you choose."

"Okay, sure, here you go, thirty Sickles," Harry said, handing them over and picking up Hedwig's cage.

"'Choo payin' for the girl too?" he said, eyeing Hermione.

Harry nodded.

"Woss your name?" Stan asked Hermione.

"Her name's Luna, Luna Lovegood," Harry cut in, blurting out the first name that came to mind.

Hermione shot him a funny look, but agreed all the same.

"Well, that's a funny name. Ah well, I'm Stan Shunpike," he said, sticking out his hand.

Hermione shook it and slowly muttered, "Hello."

Stan asked no more questions, picked up their luggage and stepped into the Knight Bus, followed closely by Harry and Hermione.

Like the first night he had come across the Knight Bus, the inside was littered with beds and the belongings of various people were scattered across the floor. Stan led them to two beds in the far corner of the Knight Bus and left them there to sleep.

"What was that about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Neville and Luna?"

"It was the first thing that came to my mind," Harry said and then proceeded to recount the first time he rode on the Knight Bus.

The ride from The Burrow to the Leaky Cauldron was a bumpy one, nothing less than expected on the Knight Bus. It passed quite quickly and in no time they had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well, here you go," Stan said as he led them out of the Knight Bus into the cool, summer breeze. They walked down the road and into the dingy bar. It was empty. It was early in the morning and no one was expected to be up at this hour; even the barman sitting on a stool had his head resting on his hand and his breathing could be heard throughout the night air.

Harry walked up to the bar and rang the bell once; the barman awoke, startled at the sound of the bell.

"What d'you want?" the barman said in a groggy voice.

"Two rooms, please," Hermione said.

"We're all sold out; come tomorrow when I'm awake," the barman said gruffly, clearly wanting to go back to sleep.

"But we haven't got any other place to stay!" Hermione said, panicking.

"Oh, iall right/i, anything if you leave me alone."

The barman got up off of his stool, walked over to the back of the bar and picked up a dingy set of keys.

"Come with me."

They followed the barman up the stairs and down a corridor to a room with graying walls, a single bed, an armoire and a straight-backed chair. A visible layer of dust had collected on every flat surface available.

"That'll be five Galleons, nine Sickles and four Knuts."

"What about my room?" Hermione asked.

"We only got one room, yeh going to have to share or sleep on the floor or sumthin'. Not my problem," he said, sticking out his hand to collect the money Harry was taking out of his money pouch.

The barman pocketed the money, only to leave Harry and Hermione in the corridor looking into the small room.

bAuthors Note: I hope you enjoyed that first chapter. Next chapter will be coming up soon and expect the unexpected! Please review, I like feedback and it's the only way I know what you guy's think of my fic, even if it's just a sentence or even a word I'd like to know. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!/b


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